


Real Life. Aka Domestic.

by springburn



Series: The Thick of It mini-fics [56]
Category: The Thick of It (TV)
Genre: Angst and Feels, Explicit Language, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Love, growing relationship, relationships, sexual scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-25
Updated: 2016-03-25
Packaged: 2018-05-29 00:28:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6351685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/springburn/pseuds/springburn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Malcolm Tucker wakes up after a deep sleep.....he's in Sam's bed and it's all a bit hazy.........</p><p>THIS STORY NOW FORMS CHAPTER TWO OF SHITSTORM.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Real Life. Aka Domestic.

**Author's Note:**

> THIS STORY FORMS PART TWO OF A SERIES COVERING THE SPAN OF A WEEKEND. FRIDAY TO MONDAY. 
> 
> The story continues directly on from 'Shit Storm'. The stories are stand alone as well as a series and can be read separately.

Chasing Cars. Snow Patrol.  
We'll do it all  
Everything  
On our own

We don't need  
Anything  
Or anyone

If I lay here  
If I just lay here  
Would you lie with me and just forget the world?

I don't quite know  
How to say  
How I feel

Those three words  
Are said too much  
They're not enough

If I lay here  
If I just lay here  
Would you lie with me and just forget the world

Forget what we're told  
Before we get too old  
Show me a garden that's bursting into life

Let's waste time  
Chasing cars  
Around our heads

I need your grace  
To remind me,  
To find my own

If I lay here  
If I just lay here  
Would you lie with me and just forget the world?

Forget what we're told before we get too old  
Show me a garden that's bursting into life  
All that I am, all that I ever was  
Is here in your perfect eyes, they're all I can see

I don't know where  
Confused about how as well  
Just know that these things will never change for us at all

If I lay here  
If I just lay here  
Would you lie with me and just forget the world?

 

I heard Chasing Cars by Snow Patrol this morning, and it sparked the continuation. It fits so so well. 

REAL LIFE.....aka DOMESTIC.

Malcolm woke with a jerk.  
Fuck! What time was it?  
He glanced sideways, nine fifteen ack emma. 

Fuck! When had he ever slept that late? 

His head was pounding, thick and woolly, like he'd slept too heavily......or could it be the wine? 

On opening his eyes, his first thought had been wondering where he was. 

What the fuck had he done? 

He sat up.  
The curtains were still drawn. Giving a muted twilight, even though outside it was broad day. 

Shit! Where was his phone? 

There was a hint of delicious perfume in the room. It pervaded the bed linen, the pillows.  
His skin. 

He took in his surroundings for the first time.  
Pleasant wallpaper on one wall. The rest a muted grey. Tasteful pictures.  
A dressing table with a silver mirror and all the accoutrements of womanly wiles.  
Makeup, nail polishes, hair brushes, straighteners, face creams......

His clothes were folded neatly on a cushioned chair.  
Lifting the covers he checked himself. Top half naked, bottom half in check pyjamas. 

Fuck! 

It was all a bit hazy. The movie, the wine, wasn't there a shower in there somewhere?  
Then falling into a glorious restful sleep.  
What had he done?  
What had he said? 

He distinctly recalled tears.  
He'd been blubbing!  
And saying he was in love........

It was the truth of course......he was....

Oh fucking hell! This was a real mess.....he'd fucked up big this time.......really big. 

Now he'd said it he couldn't unsay it. Didn't want to.....  
But he'd tied his own bollocks to the mast, she'd want no more to do with him now, he'd just contrived to lose the one little shred of goodness he had in his life. Extinguished the only glimmering beacon of light. 

Fuck. 

Leaving the bed, he went to the door, opening it a crack......listening. 

Heart thumping. 

Singing. 

The radio was on......KD Lang.......Constant Craving.......and she was singing along tunefully.  
There were wafts of good coffee, the sound of crockery. 

He took a deep breath, girded himself for the inevitable but kind rejection, padded down the two steps and headed along the hallway, bare feet on the wooden floor. 

She turned towards him as he entered sheepishly......his arms folded protectively high across his bare chest.  
The wide smile she flashed him, made him swallow......and his heart beat faster still. 

Jogging bottoms, and a vest top over a black lace bra. Her long hair piled up in a butterfly clip, little stray wisps curling down her neck. 

So fucking beautiful. 

"There you are!" She beamed. "You looked so comfortable, I didn't have the heart to wake you." 

She continued busying herself, and when he neither spoke nor moved, she turned back to him again.  
"Sit!" She gestured towards the table. "Breakfast is almost done." 

He ran a hand nervously over his stubbled chin, then through his hair, causing it to stand on end.  
She smiled at him again.  
"Bed head!" She said, fondly. 

Malcolm stifled a yawn, and took a seat.  
"My phone?" He enquired. 

"Don't worry, I checked it.....nothing's happened.....so you're safe for the moment, a few emails, but nothing urgent. You can relax for a bit Malcolm.......it's Saturday!" 

His eyes followed her as she moved about the kitchen, to the stove, the coffee pot, and back again. Placing a cup in front of him, she trailed a hand across his bare shoulder, and he sucked in a breath sharply. 

"You okay?" Her tone was slightly wary, a false levity she didn't really feel. 

"Yeah." He sipped the coffee and nodded in satisfaction. 

"Sam.....I........" He began.

"DON'T!" She snapped, sharply. Then immediately more gently, "Please don't Malcolm.....I know what you're going to say.........so please spare me........please don't say you shouldn't have.....and it was a mistake......and you didn't mean any of it......and it was all in the heat of the moment......and you regret staying.........please......please don't!" 

"I wasn't going to!" He replied, simply. "I was going to say thank you. For everything.....and sorry.....probably the sorry bit first......."

"Oh!" She said quietly. Bringing a plate of bacon, scrambled eggs, grilled tomato and a rack of toast. 

"Are we good then........?" She asked, tentatively, as if she wasn't really sure she wanted to hear the reply. 

".......because nothing happened.......just two good friends......we cuddled......we slept.......that's it.....we can easily forget it happened.....if that's what you want........never mention.......end of!" She continued......she was babbling........but she was so afraid, afraid he'd just up and go and everything would be different somehow. 

But she saw him relax his shoulders a little. 

"It's fine." He responded eventually. 

So this was what she'd evidently decided. He thought. It hadn't happened. Brush it under the carpet. They would go back to how they were. No damage done. Well, that was something he supposed. Better than her hating his guts for making a prat of himself. Letting his guard down. Showing her his moment of weakness. 

"Good! Tuck in then!" She sat down beside him gracefully. 

oOo

So here he was.......fucking domestic bliss. 

It felt so wonderful. No matter that it would all end after this. He'd have this at least. A moment to savour. To cling on to when he was back at home, on his fucking own again. 

Sharing a, frankly, top class breakfast, on a weekend morning, with a beautiful woman he'd just spent the night with......well, not in the carnal sense, but you got the drift. 

Malcolm Tucker felt as if his heart could explode. 

"This is fucking excellent, I'm starving!" He remarked, a cheek full of egg as he shovelled the food in ravenously. 

He glanced up at her over the last forkful. She was watching him carefully.

Swallowing his mouthful, he laid down his cutlery and sat back. 

"What is it?" He challenged, more unsure of himself than she'd ever previously known him. 

Samantha Cassidy had seen him fighting, claws and teeth bared, all guns blazing, back against the wall, giving hell, terrifying all in his wake.....and yet now......he looked like a lost little boy.

"You. Here. Finding it hard to get my head around it." She answered honestly.

"You and me both, sweetheart! You and me both! Fucking mental!" His expression was one of utter incomprehension. 

"You're not sorry though? That you stayed? What you said last night, before you went to sleep?" She questioned him gently, head on one side slightly.

"Too late now! I've come out.......so to speak!" He grimaced at his own choice of words.

"But you meant it?" She probed.

"Yeah." 

"You're in love with me?" She tried again.

"Yeah. Fuck......"

Malcolm felt as if he were under interrogation. 

"You're sure? Only you've hidden it rather well......." She moved her chair a tad closer. 

"Sorry......"

"Why are you sorry?" Her gaze never left his face.

It all came tumbling out in a kind of disjointed gabble, as if floodgates had opened.  
"......Because it's obviously unwelcome.......but don't worry, it won't be repeated!  
No doubt you've got strings of blokes your own age queuing up for you......and I'm a grizzled old fuck who also happens to be your boss......I just hope I haven't fucked everything up, with our friendship, just because I can't keep my fucking mouth shut and my feelings in check.....please tell me I haven't?.......I don't do feelings very well at the best of times......please say that you can move passed it? .........Falling in love with your PA is not what I do........falling in love with ANYONE is not what I do........and I'll completely understand if you want me to fuck off now, or if you wanna resign.......I'll just fucking swallow it down and get on with it.......because I'm a useless cunt, I know that.....and why would you want......."

She moved swiftly, shifting across, seating her backside into his lap, he held his hands up and away from his body, with a cry of indignation, to avoid touching her inappropriately as she very deliberately placed her legs on either side of him, thoroughly and completely invading his personal space. 

His breathing became increasingly rapid, as she leaned forwards, cupping his face in her both her hands, her thumbs at the corners of his mouth. He strained his neck upwards, so that he was looking directly into her eyes. 

"Dearest idiot!" She said softly, bringing her face to within inches of his. "You really think I wouldn't welcome your love? There are no strings of nubile young men, I assure you....and if there were I'd walk right on by. Because I'm not interested. I'm afraid I have to tell you that my heart is already taken, Malcolm....."

He swallowed the golf ball that appeared to be blocking his throat. 

".......I've given it away......to a grizzled old fuck, who also happens to be my boss. I gave it to him a long time ago, although he didn't know it. It's always been his. Always."

"Fuck!" He whispered. 

She nuzzled her nose against the tip of his. 

"So I'm not about to tell you to fuck off, nor resign, and you certainly haven't ruined our friendship  
..........far from it. Being friends is what has made this happen, we became friends first, despite everything, and the love has grown out of that......that doesn't make you a cunt Malcolm, that makes you human. I've always suspected you might be......now I know!" 

"What? Human?" He smiled slightly. 

"Yeah.....a truly shocking revelation......Malcolm 'the fucker' Tucker harbours real grown up feelings!! Hold the front pages!" 

"Sam?"

"What is it Malcolm?" 

"May I kiss you?" 

"Do you want to?" 

"Fuck yeah!" 

"Then I suggest you do!" 

His lips touched hers gently, her arms came around his neck to pull him closer, there was a tremble running through him, and his eyes fluttered shut as they sank into each other.  
Neither holding anything back, kissing with increasing urgency, as though their very lives depended on it.  
When eventually they pulled back, both gasping for air, his eyes opened slowly again and they were wet.  
She noticed immediately, and bent forward again, placing a tiny kiss on each eyelid.

"Holy fuck! Sam!" He breathed. 

She traced a finger along his clavicle, down his breast bone, circling first one nipple, then the other, causing him to suck in his abs quickly with a little gasp, then she moved back up towards his throat and chin. 

"You're nothing but skin and bone Malcolm, like two towels on a toast rack." She mused, before repeating the exercise a second time, but lingering a moment or two longer.  
A flush of pink washed across his pale chest, the sensitive areola darkening with the rush of blood that made them harden.  
She felt his hips push up slightly beneath her.

"You like that huh?" 

"Yeah!" 

"What else do you like?" Her mouth found his again, alternately pressing against it, then backing away, until he was forced to chase her and capture her lips forcefully with his own. 

"Dunno." His voice was ragged now, broken, and thick with suppressed emotion. "Haven't felt anything for so fucking long, I can't remember......but this.........I like this."  
He kissed her again. 

His hands were splayed against her back, holding her tight, pressing her against himself, his lips trailing down her neck, tugging her ever closer, not satisfied that she was quite near enough to him.  
Fingers fumbling up under her top and releasing the clasp of her bra, one handed.  
"Nice move! You sly dog!" She giggled.  
He didn't reply, just quirked an eyebrow expressively.  
Leaning away from him, she stripped off both garments. Threw them aside. 

"Fuck!" Was all he could muster, at the sight of her breasts, shapely, beautiful, her own nipples standing proud. 

It occurred to him then, that she'd been naked in front of him the night before, that he'd shared a shower with her. That was like a hazy dream now.......years ago, instead of mere hours.  
He'd been so tired he'd hardly noticed, not really.  
So overwrought that his mind shut out everything other than the desperate need for rest and sleep, and peace. 

He was overwrought now, but in a wholly different way.  
Hard as a broom handle. She can't have failed to notice. 

Finding it difficult to keep from thrusting upwards, to feel a delicious connection with her core as she sat astride him.  
"Can I touch you?" He entreated, hoarsely.  
"I thought you'd never ask!" She replied, and allowed him to stroke her breasts with a reverence that she found almost amusing.  
"I won't break Malcolm." She whispered, and he strengthened the touch, causing her back to arch, and a moan of pleasure to come from her. He closed his mouth over her and sucked gently, she shivered, and ground herself against him.  
He pulled away then, sharply, with a stifled cry. 

"What is it? Did I hurt you?" She was full of concern. 

"No! Fuck! I'm really close Sam.......it's been a fucking long while for me." 

"You're going to cream your trousers aren't you?" She whispered, with a hint of a smile, leaning herself into him again, letting herself rub against his length, undulating her body, giving him the delicious feeling of the soft cotton fabric against the tip of his shaft.  
He knew there was precum there already, but he was too far gone to care. 

"Fuck. Yeah."  
He was thrusting upwards now, already loosing rhythm, his mouth falling open, a little wheeze in his breath, his brow furrowed with concentration, as he fought his body's primal urges.  
"Out of control Sam....losing my fucking reason here......" 

To his surprise, she didn't seem at all disconcerted.  
Instead, she sat back on his lap slightly. At first, he thought, to allow him time to calm down, but no.....pulling the drawstring on his pyjamas she released the waist band, opening the trousers gently and exposing him. 

"Oh, Malcolm.......is this what I've been missing out on all this time? Holy fuck!" 

Her hand closed around his thickness, moving up and down gently, pumping him, using his own seepage as a lubricant.  
His head fell back in breathless ecstasy. Eyes shut tight.  
"Jesus! Holy Mother of God!" He cried, and his cock began to pulse in her hand.  
Semen spurted up and onto his chest and stomach, his balls and shaft contracting and throbbing, tears squeezed out from under his lashes and he continued to cry out, almost like a wounded animal, before his movement finally slowed and ceased, and he fell silent, slumped boneless beneath her on the chair. 

She released him gently, leaned in over the mess on his belly, avoiding it, and kissed him deeply. 

"Good?" She inquired, with a quirk of her eyebrow. 

"Yeah. Fuck!" He breathed. 

"But you? I mean I never even........and you're so, so beautiful......"

She placed a finger over his lips gently. 

"Hush, Malcolm. All the time in the world!" She purred. "Later, maybe.....if you still want...." 

"Don't even ask me that question!" He interrupted. "Fuck.....I want you so much it hurts.....but I was just so........so......." 

"Turned on?" 

"Yeah. Fuck!"

"How long has it been exactly?" She'd moved away now, fetched some damp kitchen roll and proceeded to wipe his front. 

He watched her, almost in horror.

"Sam....you don't have to......"

"How long Malcolm?" She asked again, ignoring his protestations. 

"Fuck! I don't even know! There were a couple of women after my divorce, but.....I don't know, I can't fucking remember......have to just rely on my own hand, and maybe a skin mag!" 

"Let's get you in the shower.....then maybe we'll see what you can really do.....old man!" 

She lead him by the hand and he followed meekly.  
In the shower she washed him all over, lathering his back, his prick, his stomach and chest, then allowed him to soap her in return, copping a feel of those wonderful tits, kissing her deeply, he couldn't get enough of her. 

Out and dried, they tumbled into bed, his mouth on her body, nibbling, sucking, biting as she squirmed and whimpered. Driving her up, teasing her. Pausing, one hand on her thigh. 

"May I touch you there?" 

"Do it Malcolm, just fucking do it!" 

"Ask nicely!" 

"Please Malcolm......please.....touch me. I want you to."

It was the tip of his tongue that touched her, not his hand, and it made her groan with bliss....oh but this man knew what he was doing! Knew how to please a woman.....Christ on a bendy bus!

Again he asked for permission before entering her.....asked if he needed a condom......or if she wanted him to wear one? If not was she on the pill? Knew himself to be clean he told her.......so gentlemanly......it was not lost on her, it turned her on. Sam.....amazing Sam......the feeling of himself moving inside her, bare, so sensual, so fucking wonderful, she was coming, he was coming. Spilling himself......feeling as if his entire life up until this moment was fucking meaningless. 

It was almost lunchtime.  
Her stomach growled expectantly. 

Malcolm was asleep. Deeply and profoundly. 

Pressed against her naked body. His head tucked beneath her chin.  
In a state of nirvana. 

Peaceful. Sated. Happy. 

oOo

An insistent drilling from his mobile made him sit up with a start.

Sam had already answered it.  
"Yes! This is Sam! Of course! Why wouldn't it be? I'm working, what else would I be doing? Yes, I know, it's your filthy mind! No, he's here, I'll pass you over!"  
She turned to Malcolm, and mouthed 'Tom's secretary'. 

Malcolm took the phone, jammed it against his head and swung his legs out of the bed.  
"Unless Tom has declared war I'm not coming in!" Was his opening gambit.  
Sam watched him pace up and down the bedroom, as he continued the conversation.  
She saw all the relaxation of the last few hours leech out of him as he spoke. Barking into the mouthpiece, tension in his neck and across the temple. His other hand tangled in his hair. 

"There's fuck all he can do about the resignation now, all that can be done has been done. The press have got bored with it, and all my emails this morning were about the up and coming Brussels meeting. He's old news.....today's chip wrapper.......no! I'm fucking up to speed on the Brussels thing.......because it's my fucking job that's why......and I don't need you to tell me how to do it."  
Sam arrested his walking by putting her arms around his middle, then cupping his arse cheeks in both her hands, by sliding them down inside the material of his pyjamas.  
Malcolm gave a strangled yelp into the phone, and tried to squirm free.....glaring at her smiling face in mock annoyance.  
"Yeah......sorry about that.....I just stubbed my toe! I'll be there at six on Monday morning.....and I'll have the speeches ready and the press junket done......no.....I'm not fucking panicking......I never fucking panic......it's other people not doing their job properly around me that do that!! Yeah....see you then.....now fucking leave me alone!"

He rang off with a flourish, and turned on Sam.  
"What the fuck.....fondling my arse in the middle of a call.....what's that all about?"  
"It was a distraction......you have an absolutely gorgeous backside........I've admired that little butt inside your suit trousers for many a day......and I wanted to touch it......and I can......so I did......sorry......not sorry......"  
Malcolm tried unsuccessfully to look scandalised.  
"So we return to the scenario of you in a men's shop, buying me pants......just exactly how MUCH time have you spent thinking about my arse?"  
Sam blushed furiously.  
"My client has no comment......." She giggled. 

oOo

Domestic.  
What fucking normal people do. An ordinary couple. 

Why did Malcolm find this so fucking brilliant? Why was it so significant to him? 

He couldn't remember the last time he'd done anything like this. Even when he was married he somehow managed to live a separate life to his wife, most of the time.  
Since then, he existed pretty much in solitary. Never really allowing anyone close.  
His shopping......such as it was, was done online.  
Everything. 

Now he was wandering the aisles of the supermarket. 

Pushing a fucking trolley. 

Sam was choosing fruit and vegetables. He watched her, mesmerised, as she picked out bananas, apples, grapes.....bagging and weighing them, before adding them to the rest. 

He had no clothes other than what he'd worn yesterday.  
So, minus the tie, that's what he was wearing. Same suit, shirt, socks. For a few moments he'd considered going home to change. 

Somehow he couldn't bring himself to do it. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he thought that if he left her, it would all suddenly disappear into a puff of smoke....that it wasn't real, it was a dream.......and Malcolm couldn't reconcile himself to that. 

Because he felt so fucking wonderful, there was a distinct ache in the pit of his stomach, that turned into a lurch each time he looked at Sam, or stopped to think too hard.  
It was a feeling of euphoric happiness, and he couldn't really remember ever having that sensation.  
Certainly not for a very very long time.  
There was a sense of oneness. 'At one'......that was the expression.......he was 'at one' with.....with everything!  
Inside he was an emotional wreck. A complete rollercoaster, and it washed over him from time to time, and he had to stop....take a few deep breaths.....and continue.  
Had Sam noticed how he was struggling? 

Several times he caught her stealing a glance at him, her head lowered, then she would come to his side, take his arm, or touch his hand gently, or speak to him in that soft and reassuring way she had.  
And the feeling would pass. 

They chose foods.......together, to make an evening meal......for the two of them. Wine to drink.....to share. 

Malcolm bought a T Shirt, and a pair of cheap navy chinos.....bemoaning the fact that he never wore off the peg stuff these days. Some more socks and cotton boxers. 

So he could change back at Sam's flat.......without going home.......because.....fuck his pathetic hide.......

........he didn't want to go home.


End file.
